Families & Such: Lindsey
by MissGuenever
Summary: Lindsey gets frustrated with the other CSIs and tries to explain Montana to them.  Is it possible to explain MT to a NYer? Buffalo wings? Kransekake? Rosemaling? Spring planting? Tom and Jerrys? Occurs after Season 2; not sequential bits.
1. Danny

A/N: My Firefly muse is still stuck; but, I'm visiting Montana this weekend. Being from New York and being married to a man from Montana; I've made all the assumptions about wheat fields, cows, and bison. So it seemed appropriate that Lindsey would want to correct people's assumptions.

I don't think there are any spoilers from Season 1 or 2 in here – I haven't watched past that. Oh, and Sons of Norway is real. My mother-in-law belongs to it; same thing with Vikings on a Stick.

"Danny; Montana is a lot more than wheat fields." Lindsey was irritated; it seemed everyone east of the Mississippi thought Montana was a state with two people in it, cows, and sheep.

"Uh, huh."

"Montana is Big Sky country. Open spaces, cities, towns, farms, ranches, mines, oil refineries. Remember the weekend you told me about your trip up to Cooperstown?"

"Uh huh." Danny perked up at the memory. The Baseball Hall of Fame was awesome; even if it was in the middle of frigging nowhere.

"That is like parts of Montana."

"Right." Danny stared computer screen; he didn't believe Lindsey for a second.

"We have colleges, coffee houses, music, sports, …"

"Mmmm… Hmmm… right."

"Bozeman has a minor league baseball team."

"Right."

"It's AA."

Danny found himself nodding, chewing on his lip, staring at the screen trying to get the numbers and letters to make sense. "Pretty decent for a bunch of buffalo playing ball. How do they deal with the horns?"

"Argghhh… Danny." Lindsey threw her hands up in the air and let herfelf get caught in the memories of home.

Home was outside Bozeman. The Billings side of Bozeman; which for anyone not from Montana, meant the eastern side. Kind of near Yellowstone park, if you really needed a landmark.

_Home was horses, cows, tractors, cars, Friday night at the Dairy Queen. It was going to Aunt Irja's to make lefse for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner. Lefse, God could she see trying to explain this to Danny. Lefse is the Scandinavian version of a tortilla; except it's made out of potatoes. Oooh, fresh warm lefse with lots of butter melted into it and sugar sprinkled on it. _Lindsey's stomach rumbled with the thought. Maybe mom would send her some in her next care package.

_Montana was going to the fair and eating Vikings on a Stick. Looking at the 4-H kids wildlife, seeing the preserves getting judged, and riding the FerrisWheel. Viking on stick; that was probably a Montana only thing too. It was the fundraiser for Sons of Norway, Aunt Irja belonged to the group. They did folk dance, taught language classes, held a cultural camp – and for too many summers got Lindsey and her cousins to sell battered fried Swedish meatballs at the fair. The southeast had deep fried Twinkies, Montana has deep fried meatballs. _

_Montana was going to Billings, to the Metra and seeing the rodeo in February. It was staying with friends there so you could see Garth Brooks at his one stop in Montana. _

_Montana was huckleberry jam, diesel pick-ups. Having to explain the difference to a New Yorker about the difference between a pick-up and a truck. A truck is large, and typically commercial; a pick-up is well a pick-up._

_Montana was Indian Reservations, poverty, meth, and rampant alcoholism. It isn't a perfect place. But, it was the place she could see the mountains. East coast mountains had too many trees on them; you couldn't see the mountains. _

"Danny, are you going back up to Cooperstown anytime soon?"

"Huh." Danny looked up from the screen. "Why?"

"I'd like to see what it is like up there. I've heard it is rural."

"It's frigging out in the boonies out there. There are even horses and carriages up there."

"Amish?"

"Yeah, I guess. Flack and I were thinking of going up for the Hall of Fame game this summer. You wanna come?"

"Maybe."

"Homesick for the middle of nowhere?" Danny asked in a teasing voice. He really couldn't imagine living anywhere other than New York; maybe New Jersey. Nah, not New Jersey.

Lindsey chose to ignore his comment. She knew the real Montana.


	2. Stella

**A/N**: Well, I'm still stuck on Extra Cargo; my little Firefly story that keeps growing. And I stopped at Mountain Mudd to get coffee (mochas) for Sunday brunch and this idea popped into my head. So continuing the memories of Lindsey and Montana.

Hey, **Afrozenheart412** thanks for the review; and thanks **Lindsey1234** and **LMooD7** for making me a favorite story. The discussion of a truck versus a pickup is one I've actually had. Then there is always gas versus fuel. Which, well that one might have to wait a little. I don't see that fitting here.

**Chapter 2: Coffee With Stella**

"Lindsey, you look kind of down. What's wrong?"

"Hmmm… Stella, nothing really. Got a wedding invitation from my cousin in North Dakota and I won't be able to make it." Lindsey and Stella kept walking; being outside was a nice break from the artificial lighting of the lab.

"Tell me about it over coffee?"

"Okay; I hear there is a new espresso place down the block. Wanna try it?" Lindsey really hoped they could make a mocha right. It seemed no one in this city could make a mocha like the Wild Joe's kiosk in Bozeman. Although, the Billings chain of Mountain Mudd was supposed to be opening a kiosk in Long Island; that might be worth the trip.

Stella shrugged. She liked listening to Lindsey's stories about Montana; they were so different than anything she'd ever experienced. The orphanage, being a cop in New York, … you name it Lindsey's life was one hundred eighty degrees different. "Are you close to your cousin?"

"Torvald. No, not really. But, weddings and funerals are about the only time we get to see the whole family. So they're a really big deal."

"Torvald. You have a cousin named Tovald?" Stella figured she shouldn't be surprised; she heard names like Laniqua, Shaniqua, Pranish, Mamoosh, … you name it she had heard it. But, Torvald? That seemed like a Viking name or something.

"Torvald. Everyone in the family names a child with a derivative of the name Thor. I've got cousins named Thor, Thora, Torsten, and Torrian."

"How did you end up with Lindsey then?"

"My mom married into the family and put her foot down. Her college roommate and best friend is Lindsey."

"Hmmm… And the wedding?" Stella really wanted to hear to hear about the wedding. This was different than the Greek Orthodox weddings she knew. Plus, she was a girl; and girls like weddings. The dresses, flowers, SHOES, … Who doesn't like a new pair of shoes? Okay, the bridesmaid dresses could usually be better; but, shoes.

"The wedding isn't that big of a deal." Lindsey put it into scientific terms. Terms that she and Stella could both understand. "It's the reception that is the big deal."

"I get that." Stella understood; she had a lot of experience with the Greek community; family was everything. But, in the Greek Orthodox tradition the ceremony was a big deal.

"Well, the wedding is a big deal; but, it is the smallest part of the day. It's the reception; that is where everyone connects and reconnects. You get to see family that you haven't seen in ages."

"How big are these things usually?"

"Mmmm…" Lindsey thought back to Ginny's wedding; the last one she'd attended. "For my family; usually about two hundred people. Our family isn't that big; but, some of the larger families a wedding can easily be four five hundred people."

"That must bankrupt the family!"

"Nah; the reception is potluck; everyone brings something. The food is to die for; sometimes there is a DJ or more often a local band. Ginny's wedding had a traditional Swedish band; that also did classic rock and polka music."

"Polka?"

"Yeah; the old people love the polka and traditional Scandinavian music. But, the 'youngsters' as they call us like rock and country music. So bands have adapted. They do a little bit of everything. Traditional folk dances, the Chicken Dance, Led Zeppelin, Garth Brooks, …: Don't Greeks dance at weddings?"

Stella sank into her memories for a second. "Yeah, we dance. But, not Scandinavian folk dances. We usually have some Greek dances. What do you all do?"

"Well I guess it is kind of like square dancing. I never did that; left that to my parents and Aunt Irja."

"Irja, that's a name?"

"Finnish. Scandinavians did a lot of intermarrying."

"Ummm…"

Lindsey's stomach started growling as she thought of the food. "The food; mom always made frog eye salad, meatballs, meat trays, salads, … you name it we had some of it. My cousin Julie makes this BLT salad that is to die for. It has macaroni, lettuce, tomato, lots of bacon, onion, mayonnaise, and some celery. Aunt Kay always brings three or four kinds of Jell-o salad. Cousin Thora brings lefse that she makes."

"Lefse."

Lindsey remembered the conversation with Danny last week. "Lefse is like pita I guess. Or a tortilla. It's a flatbread made out of potatoes. She makes the best Lefse! Well, except for Joy; but, Joy is Japanese Hawaiian."

"Who's Joy?"

"A friend of moms. She's kind of extended extended family; not quite family – but, closer than most family. She is totally addicted to crime shows. Law and Order, CSI, The Sentinel, Magnificent Seven, … You name it she's seen it. She made Ainsley's wedding cake?"

"Magnificent Seven? I thought that was a western. Who's Ainsley?"

"Kind of; but, it's about people who keep the peace. Ainsley is a cousin,"

"Uh huh." This was one of the reasons Stella loved talking with Lindsey outside of work; the conversation could roll from television to weddings, to Japanese-Hawaiians, and back to weddings all in an interconnected Kevin Bacon seven degrees of separation way. "How many cousins do you have?"

"A lot. A lot of cousins. So the reception." Lindsey got back on track sipping the mocha that Stella had ordered her. She loved working with Stella, Danny, Sheldon, and the crew because they observed. Stella knew that Lindsey always ordered a mocha.

"No, no, no. What in the heck is frog-eye salad?"

"Oh, it's the little round pastas. Uhh…" Lindsey thought; she'd always shopped by shape not name. "They come in a blue box and look like be-bes. Small and spherical."

"Pepe de Acini."

"Yeah; that's it. You cook those; add lemon juice, eggs, Cool Whip, mandarin oranges, and marshmallows. It sounds gross; but, it is the best thing in the world. Kids love it! They roll the little pastas around on their tongues."

"So a Jell-o type salad made with pasta?"

"Yeah. That's it."

They walked a little towards the lab; Stella thought for a second. "Okay, this isn't really that different than a Greek wedding. Lots of food, lots of dancing, lots of alcohol."

Alcohol; that gave Lindsey pause. "What all do you all usually drink?"

"Ouzo."

"Oh, we're beer. The immediate family usually springs for a few kegs; and then there are usually some bottles of hard stuff floating around."

"Different culture; different version of intoxicating beverage – but, not all that different."

They walked in companionable silence for a little bit "Yeah, I guess not."

As they were opening the doors to go into the lab Lindsey asked "So, do you all auction off the garter?"

Stella's head spun "What? Huh? No not usually. I guess it could happen. You all do?"

"Oh, yeah.

"Why?"

"Huh?" Lindsey had almost a 'well duh' expression as she pushed the elevator button. "Oh, it's to help get the newlyweds on their feet. House deposit, that type of thing." _Yeah it really sucked having to miss the wedding. Montana and Dakota weddings were awesome; they were more than weddings. They were community gatherings, a chance to help the couple get started on their life together. An opportunity to celebrate. Yeah this sucked._

**A/N**: I just got up through the end of Season 2, so I don't actually know if Lindsey drinks mochas; but, that is what both my grandmother (from Northern Idaho, no she isn't a white supremacist) and my mother-in-law drink. So, I figure it would be a nice taste of home for Lindsey.


	3. Sheldon

**A/N**: I got asked a question about Northern Idaho; and could I explain it a little. Northern Idaho was originally settled (not completely; but, a significant chunk) by people that were running. Running from something, or to something … As such the original families of Northern Idaho tend to be if not accepting of strange beliefs; but, have a live-and-let-live attitude. If you leave them alone; they'll leave you alone. At least that's my opinion of families from up that way; that's the way my mother's family was.

Thanks **Afrozenheart412**, **Goddessthunder**, **Voetsek007**, and **Wherintheworld** for the kindness and reviews; and **Mysticsnowraven** for making me an alert. Love you all!

**Chapter 3: Lunch with Sheldon**

"Lindsey; do you want to go to lunch?"

"Hmmm…." Lindsey's concentration didn't leave the piece of fabric she was examining.

"Come on; you haven't eaten all day."

"I need to finish this." She still didn't look up.

"It's a new place about two blocks from here; vegan and raw." Sheldon dropped the hint; knowing that Lindsey was always up for a new experience.

"Vegan?" That didn't quite compute for Lindsey. There were a few vegetarians in Montana; but, not many. Her dad didn't consider it a meal unless there was some form of meat. And he wasn't an atypical Montanan. Actually in many ways he was the norm. She had friends that were… what was that term… flexetarians. They didn't eat much meat. But, vegan? Raw?

"What's raw?"

"Well, it is held by aficionados of the raw diet that heating foods over 116 degrees Fahrenheit is detrimental to a person's health."

"Huh?" That didn't make sense. Mom had always cooked vegetables to within an inch of their life; unless it was a salad. And even that often had bacon or cheese or something like that in it. Vegetarian was definitely not a description of the diet she'd grown up on.

They believe that cooking destroys enzymes in food that can assist in the digestion and absorption of food. Cooking is also thought to diminish the nutritional value and "life force" of food."

"Why 116 degrees?"

"I don't honestly know. But, that is what they chose." _Hmmm… I should look that up. Sheldon added it to his mental to do list. _Alongside picking up his dry cleaning, reading the new NAME journal, calling his mother, oh and grocery shopping. He was out of milk.

'Okay; that sounds good. Let me…" Lindsey made some notes in her book; and marked her spot. It would suck to have to restart this again. Examining fabric wasn't hard; it was tedious and required extreme attention to detail.

Silence filled the air between them; a comfortable silence. This was one of the reasons Sheldon liked working with Lindsey; she understood silence. She didn't feel the need to have words fill the air. She could let silence be music; let his jazz fill the air and not talk over it. Or just be in the lab and let the sounds surround her. So many people felt the need to fill any space of perceived silence with words. Silly words; sentences with no meaning; conversations that would be forgotten in a minute. It was amazing the number of people that didn't understand silence.

"I'm ready. Where exactly are we going?"

"Two blocks south, and one over." Sheldon waved his arms pointing out the approximate location to the west of them. "A café called Air." Lindsey grabbed her jacket; she didn't think she'd need it. But, it was always nice to have.

"Air?"

"Air. I heard about it from a friend who I see at a lot of jazz events. His sister's boyfriend's brother is the chef.

Lindsey pondered that a moment, tracing the connection around in her mind. A grin broke out on her face. "I get that."

"What's the look for?" Sheldon asked as he held the door to the elevator for Lindsey.

"It's a western thing. Large extended families where everyone knows the entire family. My mom always used to tell me how I was related to people. She'd say something like 'Peter is your dad's second cousin once removed on his father's side.' After a while you learn your family tree; and when mom would start doing that the easiest way to figure out who they were was to trace the tree you knew and add them onto to a branch. Do they have chocolate cake?"

Sheldon nodded his head in agreement as they walked out the door into a sunny Manhattan. "Doubt it; maybe something with carob in it. I'm glad it's sunny today; the meteorologist was calling for rain last night."

"Mmm… I like the sun" Lindsey smiled up at the sky. "Tell me more about this raw food thing. How do they cook?" She put air quotes around cook.

"Well I Googled it. And according to the website; the blend, puree, sprout, and dehydrate.

"Dehydrators use heat. Dad used to make jerky so that he had hunting snacks."

"Apparently there are some that just use a fan and keep the temperatures low." Sheldon shrugged. The walk over had been pleasant and the façade of Air looked nice. There was a halo around the A in Air.

"I see."

Sheldon held the door for Lindsey as they walked into Air and grabbed a couple of seats at a corner table. Lindsey stared at the menu. _Burrito Crudo with Chipotle Lime Dipping Sauce, Lasagna, Portobello Reuben Wrap, Sunflower Falafel, Veggie Wrap, Zucchini Pasta with Pesto, Zucchini Pasta with Walnut Bolognese Sauce, and Energy Soup. _This stuff didn't didn't seem too odd. "What's Energy Soup?"

"Not really sure. It says it has lettuce, kale, squash, apple, and some other stuff in it. I guess it's blended."

Lindsey stared at the menu. "I think I'll go with the lasagna. It looks interesting; I'm not sure about the dates and miso in it though. What are you having?"

Sheldon pondered for a moment; not a lot of this resembled food. Too much acidophilous, miso and cabbage. "The falafel; it seems safe."

Lindsey looked quizzically at Sheldon putting down her menu; "You suggested we come here."

"I'm just not a big cabbage fan."

"There is an awful lot of cabbage on the menu. That and miso."

They waited in silence; a companionable silence as they watched the open prep area as their food and the rest of the lunch crowd's was made in the clean small bustling kitchen.

Sheldon watched for the kitchen for a couple of minutes; and as their food arrived at room temperature. Air is a raw food restaurant after all. He stared down at his sunflower falafel with some consternation. "Have any restaurants like this Montana?"

Lindsey moved her lasagna around. The texture didn't seem like anything she'd had called pasta. It was zucchini sliced really thin. Weird; but, kind of like spaghetti squash she supposed. "No, I don't think we do. Aren't a lot of people who are on the raw diet in Bozeman. Our neighbor's the Bieshelt's, their dog is on a raw diet. But, that is ground up meat and bones and stuff like that. I'd say next to Wyoming, Montana has probably the lowest per capita number of vegetarians in the country."

Sheldon took a bite of his falafel; the texture was a little off. But, it was pretty tasty. "Not too bad. What kind of restaurants do you all have?" Sheldon like a lot of New Yorkers had a lot of ideas about Montana; but, unlike a lot of New Yorker's he wanted to find out what was real and what was just Hollywood.

"Well in downtown Bozeman there a couple of really good brewpubs. Steakhouses, … Lot of pizza places and fast food by the college. Typical college stuff. Chain restarants: Ted's Montana Grill, Applebee's, Famous Dave's, Old Chicago, … that kind of stuff. Lot of little café's; I think every town in Montana has at least one." Lindsey looked at the vegetarian raw food in front of her and took another bite. "This isn't too bad. Most of the menus really don't vary too much. Meat, potatoes, tossed salad with ranch dressing, that kind of thing. No raw lasagna, not a lot of sushi. Although there is this one place in Billings called Na Ra; they fly their fish in daily. Joy took us there once; she knows the chef."

"Who's Joy?"

"Oh, sorry. She's a friend of the family. Hawaiian-Japanese. She lives outside Bridger on a small ranch. They do mostly beef; but, some pork. How do you like your falafel?"

"It isn't bad. Not going to be one of my favorite falafel sandwiches."

"I agree." Lindsey looked at her watch; "We'd better get back soon." She really didn't feel like going back and finishing examining the chunk of fabric; it was one of her least favorite things.

"You all want that boxed up?" The typically perky waitress asked.

They looked at each other and down at their plates, and spoke with one mind. "No, I think we're good." Then Sheldon added "Could we just get the check please?" The waitress bounced off; "What kind of food do you all eat?"

"Us all people?"

"Montanans. How different is the food out west than here?"

Lindsey counted out the money (with tip) for her chunk of the lunch and thought about Sheldon's question as they started out the door heading back to the lab. "I'd say that our food is simpler than a lot of the stuff you see here. Dad did a lot of hunting, so instead of hamburger mom would use ground venison, elk, or antelope. A lot of ground venison; using venison is a lot cheaper than buying beef. Especially for large families."

"What does venison taste like?" Sheldon really had no point of reference. But, he did understand eating on the cheap; after all he'd been a broke college student for too many years.

"Goat. Remember when we went to that Jamaican place? You don't want to hunt for antlers; old venison is pretty tough. The younger it is the more tender it is."

"Okay." Sheldon understood that; he a quite a few Jamaican and Muslim friends who served goat; and he'd had some old goat. Old goat was tough, and had a gamy flavor to it. "That makes sense."

"We ate a lot of meat; dad didn't consider it a meal unless there was some form of meat and preferably potatoes too."

Sheldon held the door open Lindsey; his mother had trained him to be gentleman. "Potatoes, you all are near Idaho."

"Ha ha; funny." Lindsey rolled her eyes at him. "Potatoes, have a lot of nutrients, are cheap and grow in a large variety of climates. Why do you think the Irish started raising them? The potato is actually a native of South America."

"I remember reading that somewhere." _I think it was in that nutrition class they made us take in med school. Silly class finally came in handy. _ "How'd you know that?"

"Took a nutrition class in college."

"Hmmm… so did I."

They walked the rest of the way back to the lab in silence. Both of them enjoying the relative silence of the walk; and the ability to be alone with their thoughts.

_Mmm… _Lindsey thought about the food that her mom made growing up. _Cucumber salad, the one with vinegar that dad loved. Or the one with sour cream, dill and vinegar that she loved. Pot roast; mom would cook the roast overnight in the crockpot on low to tenderize it, and then add potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery. The venison chili dad made; it was spicy, oniony, tomatoey and meaty. Mom made him put beans in it; said it made it a well-rounded meal. She'd serve it with rice; or over cornbread depending on how much time she had. They did a lot of food in the crockpot; it worked with their schedules and didn't require a lot of effort. Well, other than browning the roast, peeling and chopping vegetables, sweating the carrots and celery, and browning the flour to thicken the gravy._

They reached the block with the lab and both of them unconsciously slowed down a little bit. Both Sheldon and Lindsey loved their job; but, parts of it were tedious: Examining yards and yards of fabric looking for abnormalities, staring at wound tracks for hours on end to determine the weapon that caused it.

"What are you thinking about Lindsey?" Sheldon opened the building door for Lindsey.

"The food that my mom cooked; she made the best pot roast ever. Her chocolate sour cream cake with chocolate frosting."

"That sounds really good. I think a lot of people have very fond childhood memories associated with family meals. My mom used to make pancakes on Sundays."

"The radish sandwiches that dad always ate; just sliced radishes on white bread with margarine."

"That sounds rather unappetizing." Sheldon waited for Lindsey to walk out of the elevator as they headed towards the lab.

"Oh, I always thought they were the grossest thing in the world. Then I moved out of Montana, now they taste like home. Back to work; lunch again sometime?"

"Yeah, that would be good. Although someplace with cooked food this time."

**End Note**: Google NAME, I dare you – there is a journal associated with it! And I pulled an actual NYC raw restaurant's menu and my food opinions mirror Sheldon's – too much cabbage! My husband is from Billings, MT so I don't have a lot of experience with Bozeman other than driving through it a few times. So a lot of this is Billings area centered; but, I did research and asked the family a lot of questions. So Bozeman people if I've gotten something wrong; holler. Use that Bobcat cheer and speak up.


	4. Don

**Chapter 4**: Sports

"We have sports in Montana."

"No professional teams."

"We do too! We have sports teams. Bozeman and Billings have minor league baseball teams. We've got the Bucks; and Billings has the Mustangs."

"Uh huh."

"Flack; we have sports. And Denver has the Rockies."

"That's another state; doesn't count."

Lindsey rolled her eyes. "Uh huh. So the fact that our pro baseball team is in another state; but is closer in terms of miles than most of the United States doesn't count?"

"Nope." Don Flack stuck to his guns. It was great being a New York fan. New York had the Giants, the Jets, the Bills, the Yankees, the Mets, the Rangers, the Islanders, the Knicks, the Nets, and a few others and that didn't start to bring in the minor league teams. _What the hell did Montana have?_

"You play sports in high school?" Lindsey asked eating a bite of her pasta. _God food in New York was good. It helped that Flack and Danny took her to places where they had to speak Italian, or Gaelic to the owners. _

"Yep." Don said slurping up a bite of his lasagna. Not as good as Momma's; but, still damn good. "Basketball, and a little baseball."

"Yep." Lindsey pretty much figured that he'd played baseball. He had the height. "Not swimming? You have the height."

"No." Don muddled some of his sauce of his noodles with the sauce. He really liked the sauce that Mrs. Giordani made. He always got extra sauce so he could muddle everything around in the sauce.

"My cousin Richard swam. He held the Montana state record for fifty meter butterfly."

"People swim in Montana?"

Lindsey swept her chicken around in the lemon wine sauce. The chicken piccata at Giordani's was amazing! "Yes, people in Montana swim. Richard held the fifty meter butterfly record for the under ten swimmers in Montana and Idaho."

"What was he the only one that could swim fifty meters?"

"No, our neighbor could too. Bobby and Richard swam together until they both graduated."

"Huh." Don ran his bread through the red sauce Mrs. Giordani made. He knew that it took all day for her to make a batch of the sauce.

"Plus, we've got rodeo."

"Rodeo isn't a sport."

"Yeah it is. Montana has produced some of the best rodeo contestants ever. And like baseball; there is Hall of Fame for rodeo in Billings."

"You went to the Rodeo Hall of Fame? Flack couldn't actually imagine anyone spending time walking through a museum devoted to wrestling cows.

"Yeah; part of a family trip. A cousin was competing at a rodeo there."

"Is there anything your family doesn't do?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"It seems like you've got people doing everything."

"Oh, Billy. Billy was competing in mutton busting."

Don had to choke back a snort; as it was the coke he was drinking went up his nose. "Mutton busting?"

"Yes." Lindsey twirled a forkful of pasta coated in the satin smooth lemon wine dressing. "Sheep wrestling; it is what the little kids do. Billy was five and wanted to be a cowboy. It was all he talked about ; so we took him to the museum."

"Sheep wrestling Like grappling with a wooly animal?"

Lindsey looked down at her mostly empty plate. She was completely stuffed. "It serves as a way to introduce little kids to the sport of rodeo."

Don stared at his now empty plate of lasagna. "The makes sense. Guess we'd better head back."

He really didn't want to go back it meant he'd need to start paperwork; it would be so nice to have a glass of good red wine, sit with Lindsey and talk. They had some of the strangest conversations. Things like mutton busting.

"Yeah; we should get back. Mac will want me finish the report on the case we picked up yesterday."

Don waved for the check and shook his head. "Mutton busting."

"Yeah; the little kids are adorable. They get to be in a chute like the bronc and bull riders, and get ribbons and everything."

Mrs Giordani brought them the check and chatted with Don for a couple minutes about his mom; and would he be at church on Sunday. Other than knowing he'd hear about missing church on Sunday; he was pulling an extra shift. This was a great lunch.


	5. Don Part 2

**A/N**: Continuing the last conversation between Don and Lindsey. Thanks **afrozenheart412**, **Goddessthunder**, **Lindsay1234**, and **LMooD7** for the love – you all make me feel important and happy!

And if you like this try my other CSI: NY dabble series it is in the same 'verse; just later in time.

**Chapter 5**: Sports

"Swimming. You don't have water in Montana."

"Geese Don; we have pools. Swimming pools. People swim in pools. Competition swimming doesn't usually happen in the ocean or lakes. It happens in chlorinated lap pools." Lindsey advocated her opinion about Don Flack's seemingly rather off the wall opinion of Montana.

"Yeah; I know. But, the culture of water."

"Culture of water?"

"Yeah; how often do you see good wings outside of New York?" The blue eyed detective asked the CSI.

"What do wings have to do with swimming?"

"Culture. People exposed to water will swim more readily than those not exposed to water."

"This sounds like it is going to end up being like a discussion on the virtues of wine. Wings?"

"New York has really good chicken wings. I was in Chicago not too long ago and had a plate of wings. They were awful. Went to Seattle for vacation with Chelsea and the wings were awful! The further you get away from New York the worse the culture for wings. The farther you are from water, …"

Lindsey nodded. The argument seemed kind of odd; but, it made sense. Montana wasn't near New York so how many people could have eaten real New York wings? And Montana wasn't near water; so how many people swam? It made sense in a weird sort of way. "Flack, you are weird."

Don looked at Lindsey holding his notebook. "It makes sense."

"Yeah; it does. I guess."

"Great thing about being a detective." Don flashed his classic lady killer smile as he walked out the door. "Plus, who uses ranch dressing on wings? Everyone knows wings have blue cheese on them."

"Hooters still makes the best wings." Lindsey yelled after him. "And I like ranch dressing."

"Bull. Sutter's on Thursday's in Troy."

"Sutter's?" Lindsey asked "Troy; what's in Troy?" But, Don was out the door. She only heard…

"I used to visit my sister." Don waved as he grabbed the elevator down.

**End Note**: I might be dating myself; but, Sutter's on Thursdays had awesome ten cent wings! Let's go RPI! Go Red! Ideas for a next chapter? I'm leaning towards tomato sauce; since this chapter was supposed to be tomato sauce. Ideas are welcome… and really needed.


	6. Chicken Wings

**A/N**: Here is hoping that this is the conclusion to the discussion on chicken wings. And hoping that the explanation of swimming finally comes out. Does anyone have ideas for the next topic?

**Chapter 6**: Chicken Wings; the conclusions

Lindsey shook her head and chuckled to herself as she walked back into the lab. Only with Don could a discussion on swimming turn into a cultural discussion on chickens.

"What are you laughing about?" Danny asked her as he walked across the lab towards her. She looked really pretty today; the color of her shirt made her chest look amazing. "I like the color of your shirt."

"Don and I walked up from downstairs together and discussed swimming. Which led to a discussion on chicken wings and the cultural and regional aspects associated with the preparation of them."

"Swimming?"

Lindsey put on her lab coat; "Swimming. Don didn't think people in Montana swam; but, the neighbor across the street from us. Well, their son; he's my age. Dane; he made the Olympic Trials a couple years ago."

"Dane? Where'd he swim? In a quarry?" Danny chuckled to himself. "Seems like it would be kind of cold to swim in Montana."

"Indoor pools." Lindsey shook her head; she signed the evidence log and prepared to work on their current case. A mugging gone wrong. "We are civilized enough to have pools. The college has a really nice aquatics center."

Danny tilted his head at her. Lindsey often got a little touchy about the team teasing her about the _wild, wild west_. "Huh."

"Messer. They have an Olympic size pool. My cousin Greg set a state record there when he was six. We went and watched him swim."

"Six?" Danny was amazed at a six year old swimming; kids from his neighborhood were playing Pop Warner football; or Little League if they did organized sports at all.

Lindsey handed the evidence log to Danny for him to sign. They were working on the fabric evidence together. "Yeah; he set the record for fifty meter butterfly in the under-ten group. Or something like that. His record held for a couple of years." A little devil snuck up onto Lindsey's shoulder as Flack walked into the room. "And then we all went out to this awesome pizza place and had wings with ranch dressing and pizza."

Don rolled his eyes at Lindsey and she in return stuck her tongue out at the detective. "Little childish there Linds." Danny called to her as she headed out of the lab and he turned to Don "What's that about?"

"We were discussing chicken wings earlier today when I stopped in to see what Lindsey had."

"People put ranch on wings?" Danny's face showed the revulsion he felt; wings were served with blue cheese. "Ranch dressing?"

"Yeah; disgusting. I think it's a western thing." Don shrugged "You seen Mac?"

"Nope." Danny shrugged and pointed vaguely out in the direction of Mac's office.

"Thanks Messer." He smacked the lab door frame absently as he headed out to look for the supervisor of the CSIs.


	7. Kransekake?

**A/N:** Okay; I'm figuring out the dabble thing. Less than one thousand words. My mother-in-law makes kransekake; and it is to die for! Absolutely amazing, she usually makes us one for Christmas. As always thanks to everyone for reading my little dips into the literary pool: **afrozenheart412**, and **goddessthunder** (for the inspiration and words).  
And afrozenheart412 my husband was called Montana all through college; I think he was the only person from Montana at our school which probably contributed to it a little. He never minded it.

**Chapter 7**: Kransekake

Adam bounced into the lab where Lindsey was examining fingerprints. She looked up; he looked like a little kid sometimes. Acted like one too. "Lindsey, Lindsey, a box came for you." He looked down at the FedEx label. "It's from Montana."

"Yeah; if my mom ships me stuff here it is a lot cheaper than to ship it to my apartment." She set the box on the table gently petting it.

"What's in it? Come on you gotta tell me; it isn't everyday someone gets a box overnighted to them here." Adam bounced in place; he really just wanted a break. He'd spent the whole morning staring at lines of code trying to get the simulation he'd been building to work.

"Huh?"

"You gotta tell me what's in the box."

Lindsey smiled at Adam; he really reminded her of her cousin Jake. Full of wide-eyed innocence and wonder. "Kransekake."

"Krans… k aka?" He scrunched his face up. "Sounds like buffalo dung or something."

"Kransekake. Kran – say – ka – ke. Almond ring cake. It's my favorite. Mom made it for my birthday."

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Almond ring cake. Why couldn't you just say that? That at least sounds good."

"Because in Norwegian it's kransekake."

"Okay." This Montana stuff was weird: ranch dressing on chicken wings, fried meatballs on sticks, and lef… lefse. That was the word; he'd heard about that stuff from Danny. Apparently Stella and Lindsey had talked about; which Danny had overheard Stella telling Mac. And then he'd heard about it from Danny.

Lindsey grabbed the box and headed out of the lab. Adam wouldn't it rest until he tried a piece; it had been the same thing when Irina one of the techs had brought in cookies for a baby shower she was going to after work. Hopefully mom had put two cakes in the box – one she could share at work; and one she could take home.

'You're gonna share right?" Adam trailed after her; right on Lindsey's feet.

"Yes; Adam I'll share with you." Lindsey entered the breakroom and started looking aroundfor a knife to open the box. Adam handed her a box cutter that he'd brought with him; it never hurt to be prepared. She gently opened the box and saw two very well wrapped cylinders surrounded by green foam packing peanuts.

Adam reached into the box and grabbed a peanut. "I love these! They're the biodegradable ones." He dropped it into someone's abandoned coffee cup and watched it dissolve.

"Nice Adam." Lindsey gently pulled the bubble wrapped cylinder from the box, and pulled off the layer of bubble wrap. Inside the bubble wrap was a tightly Saran wrapped cone shaped with e in the noodles and more bubble wrap keeping the delicate cake safe. "Adam grab a plate and a sharp knife."

He handed her a paper plate from the cabinet by the sink. Everyone in the lab contributed a couple bucks every month or so to buy plates, napkins, plastic flatware and other niceties that the City wouldn't spring for; any extra went to the office holiday party. Lindsey gently placed the thirteen layer cone on the plate with a flourish.

Adam stared at it in fascination. "Is it supposed to be a tree?"

Lindsey laughed and gently drew a sharp knife through the separation between the top ring and the next one down. "No it's actually a wedding cake made out of graduated rings of almond cookies drizzled with an almond glaze."

"Wedding cake; are you getting married?" He asked as Lindsey broke the cookie into two pieces and bit into one. Her eyes closed as she savored the flavors of home.

"No silly boy. It's a traditional Norwegian wedding cake; my grandmother used to make it for everyone's weddings and at Christmas." She handed Adam a piece of the rich, moist, almondy and flaky.

He bit into the cookie, tasted the sweet powdered sugar almond glaze. Tasted the moist almond paste based cookie. "Wow, this is really good."

"Yeah, it is."

"Can I have another piece?"

Lindsey cut the next layer off and handed a second piece to Adam. "We have to save some for everyone else."

"Mmm…. Hmmm…" He grabbed a third piece and on his way out the door called over his shoulder. "I'll tell everyone that there's Montana wedding cake."

Lindsey rolled her eyes at him and yelled after his disappearing form "Kransekake. It's Kransekake."

She drifted into her memories for a couple seconds as she checked the second cake to make sure it wouldn't wiggle around and break on her way home. _The cutting of the kransekake at Ginny's wedding. Pretty much the entire extended family had been there; about three hundred people. There had been a band that played everything from Led Zeppelin to polka to the traditional folk dances the old people liked. Right before they cut the 'normal' cake they'd cut the kransekake that she'd helped mom make. Ginny and Tom were blindfolded and spun around to a lot laughing and giggling. She'd actually been the one spinning Ginny around. Then with Greg (another cousin) they'd positioned the newlyweds with a sharp knife at the table with ring cake. The goal was for the newlyweds to slice the cake horizontally and that was how many kids they'd have. Except Ginny being the complete klutz she was managed to cut the real cake. It was three full feet away; how could anyone do that?_

"Linds. Linds. Lindsey." Danny broke into Lindsey's memories. "You get anything on those prints yet?"

Lindsey shook her head no. "You want a piece of cake?"

"Food. I'm starving; missed breakfast this morning." He took the piece Lindsey offered. "This is good; what kind is it? It's more like a cookie."

Lindsey smiled and stood up. "Kransekake. My mother mailed it to me."

Jamming the piece in his mouth Danny followed her out the door back to the lab.


	8. The War of the Roses

**Chapter 7**: Roses and Fighting

**A/N**: Thanks everyone for bearing with me. I know that I don't update this too regularly; but, finding Montana things to write about isn't always the easiest. My mother-in-law helps with a Norwegian Cultural Camp held in Montana every summer; and one of the things they teach is rosemaling. They also do language, fly fishing, theater, woodcarving, and log cabin restoration. All the vital life skills we don't learn in modern urban life.

And a huge thanks to everyone who reads, reviews, and favorites this little fic: **Afrozenheart412**, **Goddessthunder** (you give the greatest inspiration!), **Lindsay1234**, **LMooD7**, **Madmush**, and **Runner043**. And to my Montana – honey, you're awesome!

Lindsey stood in the break-room and ran her fingers over the delicately painted plate. It was so nice of her mom and cousins to send her things from home. This would look wonderful hanging in the kitchen of the apartment she and Danny had found. She looked up as Stella walked into grab another cup of the sludge they called coffee.

"Oh, your mom sent you another box."

Lindsey grinned and showed the plate to Stella. "Yeah, she did. She said this is for our new kitchen."

Stella was impressed by the blue painted wooden plate. The center was covered with a delicate pattern of swirls, flowers, leaves, and dots. "That is beautiful; did she paint it?"

"No her cousin Lena did. Lena made me a hope chest when I was a baby; I haven't brought it out here yet."

"Oh; that is so nice." She caressed the paint; feeling the brushstrokes that Lena had carefully applied. "You are so lucky to have a close family. The chest will look wonderful with the bedspread you got last weekend."

Lindsey could feel the sadness over having no biological family in Stella's voice and reached into the FedEx box for the item her mother had packaged with the plate she'd sent out for Lindsey. "Stella, Lena sent you one too."

Stella's face softened as she took the medium blue plate. Apple pie blue Lindsey called it. She'd provided a long winded reason involving car manufacturers and the fact that American's were the only people who purchased medium blue cars. Well, it was something like that. Stella wasn't really paying attention. She was too busy tracing the graceful lines, elegant stems, overlapping scrolls, and fantasy looking flowers.

And of course as Stella was looking at the plate her phone went off. "Thank you so much Lindsey. Crud; I've gotta go. Sid's paging me." Stella started to dash out. "Make sure I get your parent's address; I need to send them a thank you note."

Stella walked out staring at the plate trying to decide if she should bring it home and put it her kitchen or if she should keep it in the office; it would look really pretty in a stand on her desk. And it would make her smile every time she looked at it, especially on days where there seemed to be no joy in Mudville.

Lindsey dug more into her box to see what else mom had sent. There were packages that were labeled for all the people she wrote home about. Cookies for Danny, Sheldon and Adam; and a rosemaled business card holder for Mac. This one was a dark red with white vine things and stuff on it. Another plate for Beth for the lady across the hall. This one was also blue; it would look really pretty against the curtains Beth had just bought on their big trip out to Ikea.

Adam walked in as Lindsey was pulling the package of cookies out. "Your mom sent cookies!"

"Yes, here are yours."

Adam almost leaped out of his shoes. "I love her cookies! Those ones she sent that had almond and cherry stuff in them; those were just amazing!"

Lindsey looked at the plastic container. "I think these are Kringla. Sour cream cookies; you'll like them."

Adam snatched the container out Lindsey's hand, and opened it breathing in the scents of sugar, sour cream, and vanilla. "Mmmm smells good." He looked at Lindsey who had started repacking the box and asked around a bite of moist cookie. "What's that plate thing?"

"Rosemaling. It is a plate, a type of traditional Norwegian painting. My cousin Lena does it."

He grabbed a second cookie out of the box. These cookies were like a little bite of heaven. Heaven in a plastic box. "Lindsey; why are the roses fighting? Don't make no sense."

Lindsey looked at the plate in her hands; and then at Adam as she shook her head. "Huh? Roses fighting."

"Rose maling. Mal – bad. Fight. Roses fighting. You know, kind of like that line from Firefly: _'Mal. Bad. In Latin.'_"

"Firefly?" Lindsey started laughing. How could she not? "Roses fighting. That is the best thing I've heard all day!"

"Firefly; probably the best science fiction show ever put on television." Adam stuffed another cookie in his mouth as he walked out of the breakroom. Mrs. Monroe was awesome; she sent cookies and stuff for everyone at the lab. And man she could bake; Adam wished his mom could bake somewhere vaguely as well as Mrs. Monroe! Actually; he really didn't think that anyone could bake nearly as well as Mrs. Monroe.

"Lindsey, your mom could give baking lessons to Martha Stewart." Adam mumbled as he walked down the hall clutching the plastic container.

Lindsey smiled and shook her head. She closed her eyes for a second and thank God for being lucky enough to have such a wonderful family!

**E/N**: Okay; now I feel like a dork. I managed to fit Firefly into a dabble on traditional Norwegian paint. Yep, I'm a dork.


	9. Boom Boom Pow

**A/N**: Wow, thanks all for alerting, reading, reviewing, and favoriting. You all make this so worthwhile: **afrozenheart412**, **goddessthunder**, **jsmudge**, **Lindsay1234**, **LMooD7**, **madmush**, **Runner043**, and **wolfeylady**. I think this could is true to the Montana experience; my Montana man started hunting with his father when he was little. The pictures of him when he was a kid are too cute for words!

**Chapter 8:** Boom Boom Pow

"Hello, this is Lindsey." Lindsey grabbed the phone off the desk as she looked up from typing a report. "Oh, hi ma."

"Lindsey." Danny called as he walked into the room, and then stopped talking when he saw that she was on the phone. She waved at him to stay.

"Yah, ma."

Ahhh… It was Lindsey's mother. That made sense; Mrs. Monroe didn't usually call in the middle of the day unless it was big news.

"Uh huh; uh huh." Danny watched as Lindsey's eyes got bigger. "That's awesome. How big?" She paused engaged in what Sheldon would call 'active listening' "Wow, four points! First one! Picture in the paper, neat."

After a couple more minutes Lindsey hung up the phone and turned to Danny.

"Big news huh?" he broke the brief second of silence.

"Yeah; my cousin got his first deer this weekend."

Danny was running through the list of her relatives in his head: Irja, not that was her aunt; Torvald, he was about the right age; Torsten; Thora, nope an aunt not a cousin; Torrian; Richard; Kay, nope she's an aunt. _How old were people when they started hunting things_? Julie, nope she was a girl and girls didn't hunt. Did they? Ainsley? Greg? _Jesus, she had a large family_. Sam? No that was the dog. Billy? _He had to be what eighteen now; about the right age for hunting. Rules were different in Montana_ _than New York that was for sure_. Ginny? _Crap if he opened this up to her female cousins that meant pretty much the entire population of North Dakota_. Oh, wait she married into the family. Tom, Ginny's husband was the cousin. Lena? No that was one of Mrs Monroe's cousins. Way too old. "Torvald?"

Lindsey looked at him like he was nuts. "Torvald; no he got his first deer years ago."

Danny's eyes widened a little. "Uhhh… how old are people out there when you all start shooting things?"

"Pop gave us a gun when I was about five. It was a little BB gun; I had to share it with my brother though. He was probably seven."

"Ohhh…" _Yep, Montana was a lot different than New York; Danny had never really touched a gun until he'd joined the police force._

"He started taking us hunting when we were about six. I got my first deer when I was about thirteen."

"You hunt?"

"Yes." Lindsey really wasn't too sure about what was so weird about this, everyone in her family male and female hunted to some extent. "My brother got his first when he was twelve, maybe. It's a law thing; you've got to be twelve."

_Crap_, Danny thought to himself. This introduced a whole range of cousins. The younger generation; Montanans could be quite prolific when it came to kids. New Yorkers usually had one maybe two kids. Montanans it was two maybe three at least. "So it was Torsten?"

"No, silly. Little Tommy. He shot his first deer on his twelfth birthday. A four point buck; and they put his picture in the paper! How cool is that?"

"So it had four points on the horns?" Danny was trying to make sense of this. "Isn't that kind of small?"

"Four points on each side. A decent size; not trophy worthy, usually. But, still in the mostly tender range; I think Tom is going to have the head mounted because it was Tommy's first buck."

"Okay. That sounds cool. Hey, you wanna go to lunch?"

"Sure. Where to?"

"New place a couple of blocks over. I hear they have a killer bison burger." Danny tossed the bison burger in as a little dig to Lindsey's western heritage; he'd read in some magazine at the dentist's that people raised buffalo as a source of lean meat.

"That sounds awesome. Bison burgers are a lot leaner than beef. Pretty tender." Lindsey looked up at Danny as she grabbed her coat. "Although some western farmers are switching to emu; it has a better flavor."

"Emu?" Danny walked behind Lindsey to the elevator. "Emu? That's just wrong!"


	10. Hunting

**A/N**: Thanks all for bearing with me as I intermittently update these stories. I write what comes to mind; and lengthening truck beds is what is currently on my mind; because, well… we're driving to Salt Lake to get my husband's truck bed lengthened. And well, I'm really not looking forward to attempting to park the behemoth after it gains another two feet (well, one point five feet).

In other news; this probably would have gotten written a little sooner; but, I passed the PE exam and have been celebrating. Big Deal in my little life!

Thank you so much reading, reviewing, favoriting, alerting and all that stuff. I really appreciate it: **afrozenheart412**, **jinx-tiger-13**, **jsmudge**, **Lindsay1234**, **LMooD7**, **madmush**, **Mackenzie L**, **Runner043**, and of course to my **Montana**; because without you I wouldn't have anything to write about.

PE PE PE PE PE PE

"Hey ma. What's up?" Lindsey grabbed the phone off the kitchen counter where she'd been tying Lucy's shoes.

Danny walked into the room because he heard the phone ring and didn't want Lindsey to have to juggle Lucy, the phone, and whatever else she was doing.

"Huh, yeah." Lindsey had the phone smashed between her shoulder and ear and was trying to put Lucy's coat on. "What are we doing today? Not too much, we're not working and that good Farmer's Market is open." Danny counted, he could pretty much time Lindsey's conversations with her mother. "Yeah, the one I emailed you about. We're taking Lucy. I'm hoping to get some apples, and make applesauce, and applesauce cake."

Danny took Lucy from his wife and helped her with her coat, hat, and mitten things. The had had come from one Lindsey's many cousins. He swore up and down she was related to the entire state of Montana! Lindsey just laughed at these declarations, and said '_nah, just the western part of North Dakota_.' It amazed him at how close Lindsey's family was; his family talked a few times a year – if that. Lindsey talked to hers every day or so over email and at least two or three times a week on the phone. The phone calls were usually with her mom; but, often other people called.

"Yeah; so is dad's truck going to be longer?"

"Uh, huh."

"Yeah. That cracks me up."

After a couple of minutes where Danny listened to the one sided conversation, watched Lindsey put on her coat, and gather their cloth shopping bags and a wire shopping cart (which she'd laughed at until she'd used his neighbor's once) she finally hung up and shook her head.

As he locked the door behind their little family Danny asked "What was that about?"

They walked out to the sidewalk; it was a beautiful fall morning. Kind of crisp; but, not too cold and Lindsey breathed in the air smelling the city on it. "Not much; ma and dad are driving down to Salt Lake tomorrow."

"Salt Lake City? Isn't that kind of far?" The whole Montana thing was still weird to him; even though he'd been out there a couple of times.

"Not that bad." They paused at a corner and waited for the light to change. Lucy was walking pretty well now; but, it was a lot easier to cross with traffic instead of running for it. A big change for Danny. "Four, five hundred miles or so. Depends on the route."

Danny's eyes got big. "Four or five hundred miles!" He did some mental calculations in his head. "That would put you in like… Ohio or something." He really couldn't grasp the idea of people willingly driving that far. "What are they going down there for?"

They started walking again. "Pop's going down to get the bed on his truck lengthened. And mom wants to see some friends from college. So they're leaving tomorrow with Meyer."

"Why're they taking the dog?" Danny knew who Meier was; he was the new puppy. "I figured he'd stay with one of your cousins or something. Don't they have Oscar?"

"Yeah, you'd think he'd be staying with the cousins; but, apparently he gets anxious when he isn't with mom or pop so they're taking him."

Danny switched his train of thought back to Lindsey's earlier comment. "Why's the truck getting lengthened? Isn't it already the size of an aircraft carrier?"

Lindsey looked at her husband; he was adorable – but, clueless about so many things. "It's a 2006 Dodge."

"Huh?" This drove him nuts when Linds would give him half the explanation. And expect him to just know and understand weird ass crap. "What's that got to do with anything?"

She shook her head; you'd think he'd know stuff like this. He worked in a lab and they worked with a lot of vehicles. "Pop's got a 2006 Dodge Mega-cab." She threw in "Diesel" as if that made any difference to Danny.

"So."

"The 2006 Mega-cab is built on the extended cab long bed frame; but, because the cab is longer they can only put a six foot bed on the truck. A six foot bed really limits what you can do with it." She thought for a second realizing that Danny really had no frame of reference. "Like when we went to Ikea and got that bookcase for the living room. That bookcase is eight feet tall; you can't lay it down in the bed of the truck. So you've gotta strap it down; with a longer bed you can just lay it down in the bed. No straps necessary."

Straps. That started Danny's mind going in directions. "Hmmm…" He waggled an eyebrow at Lindsey picking up Lucy who was starting to get a little tired.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Danny Messer!" She playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

"My mind in the gutter? Never." Danny said with a big grin splitting his face. They walked another half block or so. "How on earth would you park a truck that long?"

"Huh? Park it? Oh, it'll take up two spots. Right now it's about twenty-two twenty-three feet long 'cause Pop's got a cattle guard and winch on the front of it."

"Wench. Heh." Danny wagged his eyebrows at his wife again. "Will you be my wench?"

"Winch, silly. Winch." Lindsey rolled her eyes "That thing you use to get things like ohhh…" She paused to think for a minute "Logs out of coulees. Stuff like that." They crossed another street. "It won't be that longer; another foot and half."

Coulee, wench. Montana words. When Lindsey talked about Montana he could hear a little bit of her accent come out. It had some Scandinavian in it. You would really hear it in her mom's voice. "Coulee. Love that word." Danny chuckled a little as they reached the Farmer's market. Coulee what was wrong with saying gully, ditch, or valley. Some recognized word. Nope, Montanan's had to be special and have their own language. It was cute. "You're talking all Montana again."

Lindsey chose to ignore her husband; he could be such a child sometimes. It was one of the things she loved about him. "Probably the most important thing to dad is that his truck will be longer than Steve's." At Danny's blank look over Steve; she could see him going through family tree in his head; it was funny watching him do it. "He's not one of my cousin's; he's dad's hunting buddy. They both have black labs; you met him when we were out there last time. Remember?"

"Uh yeah sure." Danny nodded and watched as Lindsey made a beeline towards a stall with apples.

"Apples, I want apples. Plus we need stuff for dinner. Beth and her new boyfriend are coming over." She looked over at him; he had Lucy on his shoulders. It was so good to see him doing so well. And he was distracted by a booth selling fresh donuts and cider. Donuts of course, he was a cop.

"Yep, Linds. I heard you."

It was mornings like that Lindsey treasured. Mornings where there wasn't a huge hurry. Mornings where they could both play with Lucy. Life was wonderful!

**E/N**: Beth is an OC, I added her in the chapter on rosemaling. She's supposed to be the neighbor.


	11. Spring Is Here

**A/N**: Continuing my theme of horrendously long authors notes at the beginning thanking the whole world. I would like to thank the Academy, my husband, … Okay, in reality: Thanks to Gaben and Whereintheworld for ideas (which I've stolen lock stock and barrel) and betaing and everyone that has favorited, read and reviewed, especially **afrozenheart412**, **jsmudge**, **rsmill13**, **Runner043**, and **wolfeylady**.

CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY

"_Spring is here, a-suh-puh-ring is here. Life is skittles and life is beer."_ Lindsey sang to herself as she walked out of the lab. The daffodils were just about ready to start blooming, and the tulips were up a couple of inches. Mom had called last night and said she'd been seed shopping down in town, and in a couple of weeks she'd start the seedlings.

They'd always had a big garden; it stretched a sometimes thin budget if you could put up vegetables every year. So there had been zucchini, summer squash, beans and peas for the freezer; tomatoes which got canned; Aunt Marta up near Flathead had always given them canned cherries in exchange for Mom's canned peaches. Cucumbers which got pickled, a couple of jars of green beans got pickled too. Tante Lulu; well actually she was some kind of cousin; but, everyone called her Tante which was Norwegian for Aunt, really liked pickled green beans in a vodka martini. Dad called her Tante Nutsu under his breath.

There was always sweet corn fresh from the garden for summer barbecues; oh those evenings with steaks on the grill, hot dogs for the kids, fresh picked sweet corn, ice cold beer, and S'mores! Potatoes and onions which got packed away in the basement (after they got washed and well dried), and marigolds to keep the bugs away from the plants.

The first couple of years it had driven her nuts being in the city and away from spring planting. Mom had always made a big production out of putting in the garden; cutting up the potatoes to plant, going to town to pick out the seeds. Going into town was usually a production; but, the spring seed trip was huge! It usually involved lunch in town, going to the shoe store and getting sandals for spring. Then they'd go and get seeds and find out what types of plants the two nursery's closest to the house were going to get in when the weather warmed up.

But, this year she had a solution. A solution which for the first-time made Lindsey not homesick for Montana in the spring. This solution she hoped would start a new tradition with Lucy and Danny. The solution she'd come up with put a spring in Lindsey's step as she headed uptown towards Odd-Lots, humming that damn song that Adam and Danny had been singing in the lab today. _"I think the loveliest time of the year is the spring. I do, don't you? 'Course you do._"

Odd-Lots was an awesome store! It had a little bit of everything, and they should have what she needed for the big weekend project with Lucy and Danny. Lindsey had been amazed by the store the first time their neighbor Beth had taken her there. She'd told Danny all about it while she was pulling things out of bags and his disappointing response had been: "I thought everyone knew about Odd-Lots. Over in Jersey, they have Job-Lot. And other places have Big Lots; but, that isn't as good."

"_But there's one thing that makes spring complete for me, And makes ev'ry Sunday a treat for me._" As Lindsey walked she thought about the springtime rituals that had always been a part of her life in Montana: Calving, pop putting together the freeze frames, the freeze frames usually took the better part of a day to put together. They fit over the raised beds that Dad had built for Mom years ago. He'd sized the raised beds to fit the old storm windows. That way you could fit the windows over the raised beds and have a kind-of green house that you could easily take apart after the threat of frost had passed. One of her spring jobs was always washing the windows after Dad pulled them out of the barn.

After the freeze frames were put together then it was spring cleaning time which Mom always started that on the second or third really nice day so she could drag the rugs outside to the porch; and pop would always go through and unwinterize the motorized equipment when mom started spring cleaning. And after that if mom was still cleaning, he'd disappear down the road to drink beer with the neighbor.

Lindsey entered the low price shopping mecca that was Odd-Lots. "_All the world seems in tune. On a spring afternoon."_ She started humming to herself again as she grabbed a basket and starting walking the aisles grabbing a package of socks for Danny, some big girl panties for Lucy, a new vegetable peeler. "_Oooh, canned tuna! And at half the regular grocery price, an awesome deal."_ All these goodies before she reached the seasonal section that was near the back.

"_Yes!_" Lindsey squealed to herself. "_They have everything!_" Her eyes grew wide as she slowly walked down the aisle and looked to see they had before going back to the beginning of the aisle. She picked up a small bag of potting soil, a package of little peat pots, and stopped in front of the rack of seeds.

"_What would Lucy like to grow?_" Lindsey thought, staring at the full rack of seeds. _"Better, and better it hadn't been picked over yet_."

Marigolds, daisies, tomatoes, peas, beans, pumpkins… Her hands reached out to grab a package of pumpkin seeds before Lindsey stopped herself. A pumpkin plant couldn't survive on the fire escape. Okay, it probably could; but, it would be the Messer production Little Shop of Horrors. Not good! Marigolds, they could survive in a pot on the fire escape; and they might keep some bugs away. Mom always planted marigolds around the tomato plants to help keep bugs and stuff away. She carefully placed the packet into her basket, and kept looking at the colorful pictures on the rack. "_God, why did Adam and Danny sing the most annoying songs at the lab? The songs guaranteed to get stuck in your head._"

She kept thinking to herself; they had the big pot that used to hold a small tree thing before it had died; she could probably put cherry tomatoes in that; "_What kind of cherry tomatoes?_

The rack held: Sweet Millions, Gold Nugget, Red Pear, Tommy Toe, Yellow Pear, Red Currant, Yellow Current, Sweet one-hundred, and something called Tommy Toes. "_There are so many!_" Lindsey muttered to herself. She closed her eyes and grabbed one. Sweet Millions; they were going to grow Sweet Millions. Lindsey also grabbed a package of green beans, and some daisies. Four packages of seeds should be plenty; they only had the one big pot, and four little ones.

"_On a spring afternoon. When we're poisoning pigeons in the park."_ Humming to herself as the saleslady rang her up Lindsey smiled to herself. This was going to be awesome; it was the New York version of the story she'd heard her mom tell for way too many years. When she and dad had gotten married mom wasn't sure what to do on Christmas Eve. His family had always done a really big formal Christmas Eve party thing with all the friends and family there; and her family had always done a family dinner with just the immediate family and opened presents afterwards. So they'd done his families tradition the first year; and mom had felt out of place. The next year they'd tried dinner with her family; and pop felt that it just wasn't right. So that third Christmas they'd done their own thing and had a small Christmas celebration with just them and the family that was right close in distance – and it had been just right. Kind of like the three bears.

Walking home Lindsey was humming and thinking to herself: "_This is going to be the best Sunday ever. Planting with Lucy, making a new Messer tradition, and the pot roast she was going to make for dinner. What more could anyone want? Well, for the damn annoying Tom Lehrer song to get out of her head!_"

Ev'ry Sunday you'll see

My sweetheart and me,

As we poison the pigeons in the park.

When they see us coming, the birdies all try an' hide,

But they still go for peanuts when coated with cyanide.

The sun's shining bright,

Ev'rything seems all right,

When we're poisoning pigeons in the park.

We've gained notoriety,

And caused much anxiety

In the Audubon Society

With our games.

They call it impiety,

And lack of propriety,

And quite a variety

Of unpleasant names.

But it's not against any religion

To want to dispose of a pigeon.

So if Sunday you're free,

Why don't you come with me,

And we'll poison the pigeons in the park.

And maybe we'll do

In a squirrel or two,

While we're poisoning pigeons in the park.

We'll murder them{ all }amid laughter and merriment.

Except for the few we take home to experiment.

My pulse will be quickenin'

With each drop of strychnine

We feed to a pigeon.

It just takes a smidgen!

To poison a pigeon in the park.

**E/N**: The song is by the awesome Tom Lehrer! Poisoning Pigeons In The Park. The perfect song for spring. And continuing the theme of randomly citing (and providing credit) literature, rituals, and music. So from traditional African-American Slave lullabies to Dr Demento; life is wonderful. And freeze frames are real; a lot of the people in rural upstate NY use them to start crops early.


	12. Fall Rituals

**A/N**: Continuing on with continuing on. Sorry about the long period of time between postings; but, my muse has been playing in other fields. I'm not sure that is a good thing; but, it is what it is. Thanks so much to Gaben and Whereintheworld for being my tireless betas! You guys totally rock. And thanks so much to all those that read, review, alert, and favorite: **afrozenheart412**, **gaben**, **Runner043**, and **Sporting Angel**. Lastly: **Jsmudge**, where are you?

CSI CSI CSI CSI CSI

Adam bounced into the lab where Lindsey was examining carpet fibers. She looked up; he looked like a little kid sometimes. Acted like one too. "Lindsey, Lindsey, a box came for you." He looked down at the FedEx label. "It's from Montana."

"Yeah; if my mom ships me stuff here it is a lot cheaper than to ship it to my apartment." She explained for what had to be at least the fifth time and set the box on the table gently petting it.

"This one's heavy! What's in it? Come on you gotta tell me; it isn't everyday someone gets a box overnighted to them here." Adam bounced in place; he really wanted a break, and Mrs Monroe usually sent him cookies. He'd spent the whole morning staring at DNA sequences. "It's not cookies, it's too heavy."

Lindsey smiled. "You're right, it isn't cookies." But, knowing her mom she'd probably packed something in there for Adam.

"Well, what is it?" Lindsey's mom always sent the coolest stuff!

Rolling her eyes, Lindsey took the box cutter that Adam offered and neatly slit the box open. A cascade of Styrofoam noodles poured out of the overstuffed box. Lindsey reached in and pulled out a glass jar filled with little ruby colored orbs. "Ooh, pie cherries."

"Don't those come in a can?"

"No silly they come from the two trees in front of the house." Lindsey smiled and nodded remembering every summer when mom would watch the two trees like a hawk. And just after all the flowers fell off she'd put on bird netting to keep the cherries from being eaten. Then it was time to wait until they were ready to be picked. After they were picked, pitted and canned. If it was really a bumper crop; mom would make maraschino cherries. Those were an adults only treat: Cherries canned with sugar, and a combination of maraschino liquor and brandy. Mom would also get Flathead cherries from Aunt Marta, those cherries were different than the ones they grew.

The next bottle out of the box that Lindsey carefully unwrapped was filled with peaches. "Oooh… peaches." Mom always canned peaches with some cinnamon in them. She used them for pie; but, with Lindsey and her dad in the house they never made it to a pie. They'd eat them right out the jar. Dad also really liked them on oatmeal.

Adam was getting quite impatient and reached into the box to see if there were cookies, only to get his hand smacked by Lindsey who then reached into the box and lovingly picked out a big jar. At the tech's quizzical look she told him "It's a quart jar Adam; and these are tomatoes." She caressed the jar, and thought about the sauce that Danny could make with them. "Diced tomatoes from Ma's garden, Danny will make a great sauce with them."

"Come on Linds! Are there any cookies?" It was kind of like watching Lucy begging for candy, or doing her potty dance.

She reached in and rustled around for what else was in the box; and her fingers felt what she thought was Tupperware which mom usually put cookies in. Lindsey looked at Adam and kept rustling grabbing onto a tall skinny jar surrounded in a cocoon of bubble wrap. She squealed a little as she unwrapped it. "Pickled green beans!"

"Huh?"

"Pickled green beans. My aunt uses them in martinis." She shook her head. "Tante Lulu loves her martinis." Ooh, she was going to have to have Beth over for drinks; maybe Stella would come over too.

"Cookies, are there any cookies?"

Lindsey took pity on him and brought out the container with cookies with Adam's name on it. Adam's eyes lit up as he grabbed the container and ripped it open. "Oooh, it's those cookies! The yummy ones." He looked up at with a quizzical look on his face; for the life of him he couldn't remember the weird names. The CSI took a bite, "Ooh, the almond ones."

"Sirupssnipper.'

"Huh?"

"Sirupssnipper; it's a Norwegian almond cookie with cardamom and cloves."

"Nope; it isn't that."

"Yes, it is."

"Nope." Adam nodded emphatically. "It's heaven in a cookie."

Lindsey snatched one from him as Adam danced out of the room clutching the container like it contained precious gems. She rustled around in the box and felt three more bottles, and a bag. Hopefully one would be jam. Lifting the smallest of the jars she unwrapped it and stared at the brown contents and then at the label on the top. "Oooh, pear butter!"

She reached into the box and took out the largest of the jars; another quart jar. Lindsey read the carefully written label on the top of the jar. Bread-and-butter pickles. _Ooh, yum!_ Homemade pickles are the best.

One jar left. Lindsey reached into the box of noodles and rustled around grabbing the last jar. Yes! Huckleberry jam. Lindsey remembered the many hours she, mom, and all her cousins had spent combing the mountains for the small purple berries.

The last thing in the box was a gallon sized Ziploc bag with a piece of paper carefully laid in the the bag that said 'Lucy.' There was a note taped to it, and Lindsey opened the note and read '_Lindsey; this matches the apron I made you when you were Lucy's age. And one for you too_. _Love you, Mom _

Also, in the note was a picture of Lindsey and her mom wearing matching aprons. Lindsey still remembered that day; Pop had taken the picture. She had been helping mom make a cake, and had batter everywhere including both of her pigtails. And on the cowboy hat that cousin Tom had brought her from Wyoming. Lindsey had worn it for two straight months, she'd worn it everywhere including church!

Lindsey's eyes teared up as she remembered that day. Realizing that she couldn't spend all day not doing work she carefully dumped the noodles into the garbage can and put the bottles and bag carefully back into the box. As she walked out of the lab to put the jars away Lindsey thought to herself that she had the best family in the whole world.


	13. Tom & Jerrys

**A/N**: Thank you all so much for reading, reviewing, favoriting, alerting, and reviewing! I love you all! **Gaben**, for the tireless betaing, reading, and reviewing. **Afrozenheart412**, **jinx-tiger-13**, **OneWhoEnjoysReading**, **rsmill13**, **Runner043**, **Sporting Angel** you all rock! **Smudgie** I'm glad you're back!

And for anyone that needs something else to read; check out my other stories. Plus if you need more stories to read look at my favorites both author's and stories (a completely unashamed plug).

**Chapter 12**: Christmas Traditions

CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY

"Danny, it would be awesome!"

Danny Messer just rolled his eyes at his wife while keeping an eye on their daughter. Lucy was quite a handful, into everything. And cute as a button!

"Danny Messer." Lindsey added in her stern mom voice. "Montana at Christmas is the stuff dreams are made of. "The living Nativity at church. Bobby is usually Joseph; he has red hair and can grow a beard. Then there are the lights, and the snow in the mountains."

"Lindsey we have enough snow here. And we can go to mass at any number of churches. Pick one. And we don't need to buy plane tickets." Very expensive plane tickets he didn't add; flying to Montana was never cheap! And how could Lindsey already be thinking about next Christmas, they hadn't even taken this year's Christmas tree down.

But, his wife was on a roll. "The food. Oyster stew on Christmas Eve, prime rib with Yorkshire pudding for Christmas dinner. Lussekatt, and almond bread for breakfast with thick sliced bacon. And if Tante Lulu is home there are Eggs Benedict and mimosas. Then Tom and Jerrys after dinner."

"Wait." Danny was good with weird Norwegian names for things; he might not know what they were, but, they were usually good. "Tom and Jerrys?"

"Oooh… Yes! Tom and Jerrys." Lindsey almost squealed in delight. "We always pick up the batter at the liquor store downtown; but, the neighbors like the one two streets over."

"Ummm… That's great honey; but, what are they?"

"They're like egg nog but better!" Lindsey was speaking in all exclamation points as she could almost taste the warm rum drink on her tongue. "You take egg yolks blend them with rum or brandy and then fold in stiff egg whites with some nutmeg. The neighbors like nutmeg, cinnamon, and allspice; but, that is just wrong!"

Danny's head was spinning as he took in the Tom and Jerry information because Lindsey was off to the ballgame!

"Some people buy the batter; but, homemade is so much better!" Lindsey exclaimed. "Then opening presents after dinner on Christmas Eve!" She paused for a second and kept on going. "If mom doesn't have time she goes to the Montana State Liquor Store on Main to get the batter; the one out at the west end. That one uses allspice."

"Huh?" It was a pretty typical conversation; Lindsey was running circles around him. "Christmas Eve?"

"Oh yeah." The Scandinavian lilt came out in Lindsey's voice with her excitement. "Presents on Christmas Eve after dinner. Then you open stockings on Christmas morning and go to mass."

Danny just shook his head. This was all kind of foreign to him. Christmas to him was seven types of seafood, a small family dinner on Christmas Eve, a formal Christmas mass, and then the BIG family dinner. Even though his family was pretty much dysfunctional Christmas was a BIG deal. And it was an Italian Christmas. And that meant seven types of fish on Christmas Eve.

From the dreamy look on her face Danny could see that Lindsey wasn't in New York; she was back in Montana. "Mmmm… Oyster Stew."

"Festa dei sette pesci." Danny tossed in to the one sided conversation. That was a normal Christmas Eve dinner.

Lindsey didn't even pause. "Onions and celery sautéed in butter. Oysters and milk. Served with crackers." She could almost taste it; it was a memory that she would always have with her. The whole family sitting down to a simple dinner of oyster stew, crackers, and a tossed salad made with grapefruit.

Danny's face wrinkled in disgust; but, he kept his mouth shut. He had learned a few things since he'd gotten married. Dissing Montana food was one thing that he didn't do (much). "Cioppino!" Now that brought back memories, at his wife's quizzical face he added: "Seafood soup. And cod balls in tomato sauce, oyster shooters, ensalata di mare, and clams casino."

Lindsey nodded her head. It was a lot different than her family's traditions; but, it did sound good. She had the better part of a year to soften up her husband and convince him that they should go to Montana for the holidays. Going into the kitchen Lindsey stared into the refrigerator and pondered what she'd make for dinner. Shutting the door she called out "We could go skiing."

One last shot towards the outfield.

Ensalata di mare – Seafood salad

Festa dei sette pesci – Feast of the seven fishes

**E/N**: Okay, I'm not sure if Lindsey's family is Catholic. But, my in-laws are; although before I married into a Montana Scandinavian family I thought most Scandinavian families were Lutheran. So thus… Lindsey's family is Catholic! And festa dei sette pesci is the feast of the seven fishes. It's a traditional (kind of) southern Italian celebration of the Christmas Eve vigil and waiting for Jesus to be born.


	14. Swedish Pancakes

**A/N**: I know no one wants to read hugely long author's notes; but, I still write them. This fic is labor of love, and experience. So I always need to send the shout out to my mother in law, **GoddessThunder**. She gave my wonderful husband **Voetsek007**. And that Montana Scandinavian culture which is so very different than what I grew up with. **Gaben** and **Always-Underrated** thank you so much for being the most amazing betas!

And thank you so much to everyone that takes that little bit of extra time to review, favorite, alert and read! I love you all: **afrozenheart412**, **Gaben**, **Sporting Angel**, … Thank you so much! I love hearing from all of you.

CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY CSI: NY

**Chapter 13**: Pancakes

"I want pancakes!"

"Okay, so do you want me to make pancakes? Or do you want to make pancakes?" Danny asked a very pregnant Lindsey.

"You can't make them right." Lindsey announced rubbing her belly. "I want them like my Mor-mor, used to make," she half-scowled, half pouted.

Danny tossed his hands up in the air and started digging for his cell phone, which was buried in the couch cushions. "What kind of pancakes did your Mor-mor make?" In the time he and Lindsey had been together he'd learned that Lindsey's mother's mother was called mormor instead of grandma or nonna. Apparently, if it was her father's mother the Norwegian language had a different word for it. Danny didn't really keep up with Lindsey when she talked about Norglish, or was it Scandlish?

But, no matter what; Swedish meatballs with potatoes, gravy, lingonberry jam and a roll like they'd had at IKEA last weekend was really good! Although the trek out there, via the NY public transportation system had been a royal pain in the ass. And then Lindsey had picked out one bookcase, two lamps, three pictures with frames, and a few random other things like a vase, some candles, a mirror, and some stinky stuff. Plus, a comforter cover and a rug. Yeah, she'd pretty much blown their entire months grocery budget, entertainment budget, and the electric bill all in one hit. Yep, now at least one of them though preferably both of them needed to pull some overtime.

"So how do you make Swedish pancakes?" sighed Danny, knowing he wasn't going to have any peace until Lindsey had pancakes.

"Ummm…." Lindsey felt a kick. "I don't know. I just want pancakes!"

Danny nodded his head wisely; he knew not to argue with a pregnant woman. It was a lesson he'd learned the hard way. He grabbed his cell phone off the counter and scrolled through the numbers until he reached Lindsey's parent's number.

As the phone rang he walked into the other room, giving himself at least a little bit of privacy. "Hi… Mrs Monroe."

"Yes, yes, everything's alright."

"Nope, Lindsey's fine. She isn't in early labor." It was amazing at how he could never quite seem to get a word in edgewise. And how he could now track Lindsey's conversations with her mother just by the two or three words she said every couple minutes.

After a couple of minutes of listening to news of Montana, the extended family, and about the prize that the neighbor's son had won at Boy Scouts, Danny was finally able to get more than two sentences in. "Yes. Mrs Monroe, Lindsey wants Swedish Pancakes and jam. And my life isn't going to be the same until she gets them." Danny pleaded.

He could hear Lindsey's mom laughing over the phone lines. "Oh, I loved those too when I was pregnant with her. Do you have a pen and paper?"

"At the ready!" Danny really didn't want this day to become a cataclysmic catastrophe 'The Day The Pancakes Stopped!' or 'The End Of the World' or something like that…

Still laughing Mrs Monroe started reciting from memory the recipe she'd learned from her mother "Three eggs, two and a half cups of milk, a little over one cup of flour, a half teaspoon of salt, and three tablespoons of oil."

"That's it?" Danny stared at the list; he'd been expecting a lot more ingredients or weird stuff that couldn't be found outside of Montana!

"That's it. Just mix it all together and put it in a preheated greased non-stick pan." She snapped her fingers. "I almost forgot Mor-mor always used to put in a quarter teaspoon of almond extract, and a pinch of ground cardamom."

"Wow, that sounds doable" sighed a relieved Danny. He looked down at the list and felt almost confident, this didn't look too difficult.

"Yep." Mrs Monroe responded with that flat Northern Montana South Dakota accent, remnants of Scandinavia that had been passed down from the homesteaders. "If you haven't done them before use two pans, and when the first side is done turn it into the other pan instead of using a spatula."

"Huh…"

"These are a lot thinner than the pancakes you make." Mrs Monroe explained. "They're more like… Like…" She waved her hands around in the air (Danny could hear the swooshing over the phone). "Crepes."

"Okay, that makes sense." Danny commented remembering that bistro place Lindsey had drug him to a few weeks ago. "We went for crepes a couple weeks ago. A place Lindsey read about somewhere. Called… Lina Frey Bistro something… Bistro Nouveau."

"She told me about the meal. Sent me pictures from her phone."

Danny tuned out as Mrs Monroe went into a five minute description of the meal that he and Lindsey had eaten. Sheesh, he'd been there. He didn't need to hear about it a third time. The indigestion had been bad enough."

While Mrs Monroe continued talking about how vivid and clear the sonogram pictures Lindsey had emailed her last week, Danny made a shopping list. Jam, eggs, milk they had, and they were out of bacon! Bacon, they would need bacon.

When he finally hung up ten minutes later, Danny had also figured out that they needed Tide, Provolone cheese for sandwiches, a loaf of bread, tomatoes, and toilet bowl cleaner. He could do this! He could make Swedish pancakes, although why they couldn't just go to that Lina Frey place again was beyond him.

"Linds, I'm going out. We'll have pancakes for dinner," he called over his shoulder as he made his way to the door with a couple of reusable shopping bags jammed into his coat pocket.

"Nice!" Lindsey waved good-bye from where she was folding laundry as she sat on the worn sofa resting her feet. "Love you!"

It was another good day in the Messer Monroe household!

**E/N**: The recipe works. It's my family's recipe and we do add the almond extract and ground cardamom. Or if I only have whole cardamom, I add a little fresh grated nutmeg.


	15. Cheeseburger Pie

**A/N**: Thank you so much for everyone that has read, reviewed, followed, and favorited! It really means a lot to me that you take the time: **afrozenheart412**, **gaben**, **jinx-tiger-13**, **Lindsey1234**, **LMooD7**, **madmush**, **Musicgirl xxx**, **OneWhoEnjoysReading**, **rsmill13**, **Runner043**, **SportingAngel**, and **whereinthewrld**. Love you guys! Yeah, this story has taken me a while to update; Life (with a capital L) kind of got in the way. And I needed to find something which screamed at me to write about. My mother-in-law's Cheeseburger Pie provided just that.

**Chapter 15**: Cheeseburger Pie

It was one of those days, smack dab in the middle of one of those weeks. It had been too busy, involved too much walking in the cold, damp weather; and annual reviews were coming up. Annual reviews meant everyone was stressing. All Lindsey felt like doing was curling up on the couch with a book under the quilt that Joy had made her last year for Christmas. And having a cup of chamomile tea with honey, with cheeseburger pie for dinner.

"Mmm…"

"What are you 'mmm-ing' about?" Danny asked.

"Huh?" Lindsey shook her head, she didn't realize she'd been talking out loud.

"You were 'mmm-ing' like when you eat those weird Scandinavian tortillas, those things that you love so much."

"Lefse."

"Yep, that's it." Danny paused for a moment, poking at his Chinese leftovers from a couple nights ago. "So, Montana, what were you thinkin' about?"

Lindsey blushed a little "My mom's cheeseburger pie."

"Cheeseburger pie?"

"Yeah, my mom would make it with tomatoes and onions from the garden, ground meat, lots of cheese, and some other stuff." She closed her eyes and remembered the taste of the cheesy, meaty, pickle laden pie."

"Pickles; pickles in pie?"

"Yeah, Tante Lulu's dill pickles chopped up small. They made it taste just like a cheeseburger; and mom would always serve it with a green salad and ranch dressing."

"Huh." This whole idea of a burger in pie was a little hard to digest for Danny who believed that a burger came in a bun.

"My brother would put the lettuce on his slice of pie with mayonnaise and catsup." Lindsey chuckled at the memory. Lord, her brother would make huge mess. Every time mom made it he would end up with pie stuff smeared all over his face. Even when he was in high school.

"What's so funny?"

"My brother." She shook her head, smiling again. Danny thought that Lindsey really hadn't smiled enough lately; the workload, the weather, and the tiff with her landlord had been taking a toll on her. "He would make a giant mess trying to eat pie like a cheeseburger; and complain the whole time whining 'why can't we just have burgers?' But, then in a week or so he'd be begging mom to make it again."

"Huh." Danny had a few favorite meals like that growing up. And while he'd been playing ball it had been macaroni and cheese with tuna and green peas. He'd learned to love that from one of the guys on his team who would make it in an electric tea kettle that he always had with him. "Macaroni and cheese with peas and tuna."

Lindsey looked at Danny in surprise. "Macaroni and cheese with peas and tuna?"

"Yep, makes me think of baseball. The good times I had playing baseball. Making it in an electric tea kettle late at night. On good nights we'd have Kraft and a six-pack of beer."

"Yep, that is like me and cheeseburger pie. Mom would make it every time one of us had a really bad day; when we aced a test we'd been worrying about, or just as a surprise."

Danny nodded in agreement. "Where did your mom get the recipe?" He was curious because maybe he'd try and make it this weekend for Lindsey. See if they could get together for a dinner and a movie night. If it was too hard; he'd see if his neighbor could help him.

Lindsey wrinkled her brow, and scrunched her lips up. Danny thought she looked too cute for words. "I think mom got it from one of her Home Ec people. Although, she might have gotten it from the back of the Bisquick box; I know that she added the pickles to the recipe. She'd use whatever kind of meat we had in the house; venison, beef, elk. What was in the freezer."

Bisquick box, that sounded easy enough. He could probably Google the recipe and add pickles to it. The CSI thought he even might have pickles in his fridge! Probably catsup too. So he would need to go shopping for salad stuff, ranch dressing, hamburger, and whatever else the recipe called for. Although, there ain't no way he was getting ground venison; so it would have to be venison. Next up was a movie. The new Mission Impossible movie was out in theaters; but, that didn't really seem like Montana's cup of tea. And it wasn't on DVD. He'd check on his way home as to what was out on DVD, Date Movie might be out, or that horse movie that had come out a couple months earlier. Yep, this was a plan!

**E/N**: This isn't beta-ed. **Gaben**, I miss you! Hope everything is alright with you. Yes, cheeseburger pie is real; my mother-in-law got the recipe off the back of the Bisquick box. She adds in tomatoes, I leave out the onions and add in tomatoes, pickles, crumbled bacon, and mustard. It's really a recipe you can fuss with and make it how you like. And the spousal-unit's mom also typically does it with venison; because that is what they've got in the freezer.


End file.
